


crimson and clover

by rosecolouredgirl



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, F/F, Fix-It, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, ivy is kinda petty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 08:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18913714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecolouredgirl/pseuds/rosecolouredgirl
Summary: Ivy finds Ecco bleeding out in the Sirens club and saves her.





	crimson and clover

**Author's Note:**

> fuuuck future jeremiah lives, am i right lesbians??
> 
> title from "crimson and clover" by joan jett and the blackhearts <3

Ivy is  _ fuming _ . Her night was ruined by some freak dressed like a bat killing her plants. First, he threw one of his weird boomerangs at her flower pot containing her special orchids, the ones she uses to create her perfume. Second, he jumped out of a tree and into her bed of peonies, crushing them. She let out a shriek of agony to parrot the sounds the flowers made under his gaudy black boots.

 

He tried to tell her not to interfere with nature. What on Earth was he thinking? Ivy  _ is  _ nature. She  _ controls _ the green. However, to avoid the death of more of her sweet babies, she briefly left the park.

 

She hasn't  _ truly _ left the park in nearly ten years. She occasionally left for food or when she needed some muscle to keep visitors away. She despises Gotham; hates the dirty polluted air killing the plants, hates the stuck up millionaires not giving a damn about the planet, hates  _ every. Single. Thing. _

 

As she walks through the shockingly empty streets of lower Gotham Proper, she notices loud music blaring from the Sirens. The club has been closed for a decade, ever since Barbara Kean decided to venture into other aspects of business.

 

"Crimson and Clover" by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts booms from the building as Ivy walks closer for a better look. The doors are open, meaning someone definitely stopped by. She can see the lights on through the window as well.

 

Childlike curiosity takes over her body and she enters the club, slowly, as to not alert the intruder of her presence. The club hasn't changed in its twelve years of business, except for when Oswald Cobblepot briefly became proprietor, so Ivy isn't too freaked out.

 

By the bar, she sees a pool of blood and a distinctly human arm outstretched in it. She takes a couple of cautious steps forward and a body comes into view. Like a ragdoll on the bedroom floor is the nearly lifeless body of a woman.

 

Her matted hair is done up in buns with a few strands hanging down. The hair was once blonde, but is now stained with her own blood. Her outfit is caked in blood, old and new, made of black and red leather. Her face is painted in harlequin makeup, no imperfections in sight. Her mouth is agape, stretched into a smile with a trail of crimson leaking down her chin and cheek, onto the linoleum floor.

 

Ivy has seen many horrible sights, has been the cause of many horrible sights, but she doesn’t think anything could compare to what she saw in front of her.

 

As she takes a moment to glance around, she realises that this woman was left for dead. No one is coming back for her.

 

Normally, Ivy couldn’t care less about the life of humans, but something about this woman and her condition disgusts her. Maybe it’s because of the parallel to how Ivy was left when her parents died and she was on her own. She sighs and tiptoes over to the body, pressing her first and middle finger to the blonde’s pulse.

 

It’s weak, but still there. She still had more time.

 

Ivy takes her into her arms, carrying her bridal style. She’s shockingly light, making the task of carrying her all the way back to the park before her pulse stopped remarkably easier. The redhead delicately places the girl down on her makeshift bed and as quickly as she could gathers the ingredients she needs from the plants.

 

She makes an elixir, part natural plants and part her  _ special _ plants, and force-feeds it to her patient. It goes down easy and Ivy feels something like relief when the girl’s pulse quickly steadies. The concoction will be able to properly heal her wounds and even give her immunity to toxins, such as Ivy’s perfume or the infamous Jeremiah Valeska insanity gas. She also wipes the blood and makeup off her guest's face, unexpectedly surprised to see just a normal person underneath.

 

It’s silent for hours after that. Ivy remains awake, partly because her bed is occupied and partly because she hardly sleeps anymore. Just being in the center of nature is enough to keep her energized for days on end. On hour five, the girl talks in her sleep. “ _ Is that you, boss? Oh, J… you look  _ perfect…”

 

Ivy remains silent, watching as the blonde turns onto her side and goes back to sleeping silently.  _ At least she got better. _

 

Nearly two days later, which Ivy spent scaring stragglers away from the park and tending to the plants, the girl finally wakes up. She sits up, caressing her hand over her abdomen. She glances at her surroundings before her eyes land on Ivy. “Hey, you’re the plant lady!” she exclaims.

 

"Poison Ivy," the redhead can't help but snap in response.

 

"Hiya, Poison Ivy," her guest smacks her lips a couple times before making a disgusted face, "The taste of asparagus and grass is in my mouth."

 

"Well, considering I found you bleeding out, I had to force-feed you medicine, which saved your life, by the way."

 

Mention of her former position is enough the jog the girl's memory. "Oh my gosh, J must be so worried. He has to get everything ready for Brucie to come home," she gasps, trying to stand, but hisses in pain and holds her abdomen.

 

"Who are you?" Ivy asks, just standing and watching as the stranger lays back down.

 

"J calls me Ecco."

 

"Who's J?"

 

A look of utter admiration crosses onto Ecco's face. "He's my savior. My love. My  _ hero. _ "

 

Ivy racks her brain, trying to think of people with names starting with the letter J in Gotham.

 

_ Jonathan Crane? No, all his followers dressed in rags and potato sacks. _

 

_ Jim Gordon? Definitely not, there is no way someone like this would associate with  _ him.

 

_ Jerome Valeska? No, he's been dead eleven years, he's nothing but a distant memory. _

 

The only other person she can think of is Jeremiah Valeska. She curled her lip in disgust. Everyone thought he was a vegetable, but he did  _ not _ have Ivy fooled. As hard as he tried, she would not buy his act. He's so awful at acting and he's arrogant and  _ creepy _ . Not to mention she's caught him spitting out his gum in her bushes before.

 

"Jeremiah?" she hisses, "That sniveling little  _ rat _ . I  _ knew _ he was lying about being catatonic, but  _ nooo _ , no one listens to  _ Ivy _ —"

 

"You're funny, red," Ecco giggles. She reaches a hand up and pats her own head, feeling the tangles still styled in the way she left them, "Do you have a hairbrush lyin' around here somewhere?"

 

"Yeah," Ivy hands said brush to the blonde, who spends the next twenty minutes brushing her hair out until it's flowing down her shoulders. It's silent, Ivy watching as Ecco grunts and pulls at knots.

 

"Can I see your wound?" Ecco nods and without a second thought, tries to take her top completely off, "Whoa there! Just lift up your shirt, keep your clothes on."

 

Ecco sighs and lifts her shirt up slightly, revealing a bullet wound right under her rib cage and a stab wound not too far to the left. "Ouchie!" she exclaims, glancing down at her own wounds, "They really got me back there."

 

"Who got you?" Ivy asks, walking over to her work table. She takes herbs, flowers, and even a couple drops of Lazarus water, mixing it together until it's a paste.

 

"The other red. I can't remember her name. Barbie… Bambi… Something with a 'B'... She nicked me a lil' bit. J got me too. Silly, silly man he is…"

 

“Did Jeremiah  _ shoot _ you?”

 

Ecco nods. “Yeah, ‘s just a bullet, that never hurt no one,” she answers, giggling.

 

Ivy gawks at her.  _ Is she serious? _ “You  _ do _ know bullets kill people, right?”

 

“Not me.”

 

The redhead finishes her elixir, talking the bowl and sitting on the bed in front of Ecco. “This should heal your wounds.” She applies some of the paste with her fingers, ignoring the blonde’s protests in pain.

 

“Wait a minute! You’re the witch lady, aren’t you? I didn’t realise weird plant lady and cool witch lady were the same person!” Ecco says as Ivy dresses the wounds.

 

“Yes, they call me a witch. It keeps trespassers away from the park, which is a bonus,” Ivy replies absentmindedly.

 

Ecco grins. “You’re really awesome, Poison Ivy.”

 

“Thanks, I guess,” Ivy goes to place the bowl on her counter again, but Ecco grabs her wrist. She has a killer grip.

 

“Wait! We need to bond! I need to know all about my witchy princess charming!” Ecco insists. 

 

Ivy shakes her arm out of her guest’s grip and puts the bowl in a cabinet. “Don’t you have to go back to Jeremiah?”

 

Ecco frowns. “I don’t know. You made me realise bullets shouldn’t be in a relationship, but he’s all I know. He’s my J.” Ivy can see a lost look in her eyes and empathizes with a human for the first time in years.

 

She remembers the lonely feeling of understanding that no one in her life truly cared about her. The absolute betrayal that cut into her like a hot knife, that changed her forever. “I’m sorry,” Ivy says, truly meaning it, “I guess you can hang around here. There really isn’t anyone else.”

 

The blonde stands shakily and stumbles over to Ivy, squeezing her as tight as possible with her condition. “Thank you, Poison Ivy.” She sniffles weakly, giggling softly.

 

Ivy sighs and reciprocates the embrace, though not as tightly. “You don’t need to thank me,” she replies, “And you can call me Ivy.”

**Author's Note:**

> i love them soo much :')
> 
> please leave a comment! i love reading them <3


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